H2amilton
by Thomassjefferson
Summary: Enjoy, bitches.
1. Chapter 1

My name is Justice Freedom Joy America, and this is my story.

The year was 1787, the day was May the fifth. For those of you who are ACTUALLY familiar with American history, that was the first day of the constitutional convention. I'm not even going to add that though.)

It was the first day of the constitutional convention.

Tensions were high. Like, SUPER high. Like, almost that kind of sexual tension that you experience with another teenager in the grocery store. Not that I'm a teenager. I actually died in 1832 and was already in my mid 200s by this time, so I was 100% legal at this point. (*wink wink nudge nudge* *Not a fucking lemon you sick fucks get your fucking minds out of the proverbial gutter**) ANYWAYS, I had the absolute blessing of being invited to this convention by none other than Alexander Hamilton himself. I was invited as the spiritual consultant for whatever the hell we were doing. Freeing the mole people who lived under the capital, or whatever.

For several years I had been running a very unsuccessful store for basic magic supplies. I catered to the needs of local wiccans, witches, warlocks, satanists, etc. But now was my time to really show that apathetic, pile of cinders I called my fire of passion.

It was 3 am. I think. This was 17 fucking 87, I didn't have a wristwatch.

So I looked at the sundial I had permanently implanted into my arm, but it was totally useless since the sun wasn't even OUT yet.

"Useless sundial." I fumed pushing the long locks of my pointed black hair that I will henceforth refer to as my quills away from my eyes. My chariot was supposed to be here by now. I rolled my amber, gray, blue, orange eyes towards the ground, so it looked more like I was looking forlornly at the ground but I have a sigma or something with my eyes so #don'tjudge. I was really annoyed.

Suddenly, a huge ass gap in the earth tore my fucking driveway apart and my chariot came out of the ground, surrounded by a black mist. The Hell Horse Orphnaeus touched noses with me and I pushed him away.

"Control yourself you animal" I blushed, my cheeks turning a deep forest green. The color of a green forest. I looked up at my chariot driver.

"Sup"

"Hades? What the HELL?" I screamed, brushing off the black mist the horse had left on my left cheek. My face cheek.

"Dude, chill it's like, 3 am. I think." He said picking me up gently by the neck.

"asdFDSGJ" I gasped. He dropped me onto the floor, blushing a deep forest gray.

"Sorry, I didn't know how else to make you be quiet. I'd hate to wake up your neighbor over there." He said one of his thumbs gesturing to the saguaro cactus I had stolen on one of my many adventures to the wild west. I made a waving gesture to indicate that it was fine.

"He's fine. Sometimes I have to register noise complaints, so I don't feel bad if he wakes up TBH." Hades shrugged and gave my cactus the 'I'm watching you' face which consisted of him barring his fangs and performing and elaborate apache war dance. I gave him a questioning look, my eyes full of questioning.

"What? Cultural appropriation is fine if you're the God of the Underworld."

I shook my head vigorously, displaying my blatant disgust for the patriarchy.

"Just get in the chariot." He sighed. I also sighed. The space between us was filled with sigh. It smelled like roses. And embalming fluid. I heaved my scuba equipment onto the death machine. Hades glanced at my shoes, a questioning look in the black hole that was his mouth. I looked at my neon pink flippers.

"No, the shoes are not too much.' I fumed. ' They are the height of fashion and functionality." I had to defend the honor of my shoes. Hades ignored me, and reached into his pocket, pulling out a roll of batman themed duct tape. I snatched it out of his hands.

"Yeah, yeah I know what to do." I artfully ripped a piece off and threw the roll onto the street before smoothing the tape over my mouth.

"I actually wanted the rest of that roll. You could have just handed it back to me." He mumbled, then took the reins made from braided daisy chains into his talons.

We were on our way to the constitutional convention! I was so excited, I wanted to scream but the duct tape made that super duper hard to do. This was the next chapter of my life and I was ready to start it off right. My quills rustled in the wind, making beautiful metallic windchimey sounds in the crisp night air. This was exactly what I wanted to be doing. Duct taped, with my scuba gear and the God of death driving me to my personal equivalent of Junior Prom. The prom I never got to attend due to a tragic snowblower accident in my living room. I absentmindedly stroked my hook hand with my non hook hand. Tragic. I lost my favorite hand hook that night. It was the red velvet one with real live salamanders tied to the base. *sigh*


	2. Chapter 2

We arrived in Philadelphia several months later. It was now September 1st of the same year. What? Hades said he would give me a ride, he didn't tell me how long it would take. I'm just super grateful for the blessings the rain Gods send my way. I don't question the rain Gods and neither should you.

I walked the building the greatest minds of America were meeting in, and I threw the doors open, gently. Full of my usual grace and poise, I tripped over the carpet on my way through the doors. The room was full of sweaty, middle aged men. A personal fantasy I'm sure we've all had at one time or another. Throwing my quills over my shoulder, I walked straight over to Alexander Hamilton. He gave me a surprised look with his eyes.

"Justice? I didn't think you were coming. It's been five months." He said. I laughed, a laugh full of good natured mockery.

"You've been waiting for me for 5 months? Where do you sleep here?"

"We haven't been waiting for you, and we haven't been here for 5 months straight, we go home…" But I interrupted him by placing my pinky finger over his lips.

"Whatever. I'm here now. Let's free the mole people. Who is the leader here so that I might usurp them?"

He pointed to George Washington, who was eight foot two and must have weighed a fucking ton.

"Scratch that." I said and took my seat next to Hamilton, one of those plastic blow up chairs from the 90s that those fucking millennials won't shut up about. (Millenials are the ancient Incan war priests who will rise again about 20 years after the 1990s are well over. They will bask in copious amounts of nostalgia, go to college and use their crippling student debt as a platform to rightfully complain on social media. They will be persecuted, and the older generations will verbally drown them all in hate and blame. But in the end, they will be more tolerant and supportive of basic social rights than their predecessors. And while trying to make the world a better place for all to live in, their parents and grandparents will still try to drag them into the void of adult misery and despair. Or so the prophecy on the back of the stone outside my house said. Whatever.)

The chair was purple and fit perfectly under the table. As I sat in it, one of my quills quickly popped it and the air slowly fizzed out making a small, somber, sad, silly sound.

Several hours went by, and the mole people weren't even mentioned ONCE. They really did not know how to stay on topic. When Washington called for a recess, I jumped out from under the desk eager to ask Hamilton to push me on the swing set that must be part of the playground where our recess was . I hit my head on the table, and when I saw Hamilton, there was only pure, liquid fear in his eyes. I noticed that I had spilled his glass of water all over his lap. I looked at him, and he looked at me, then he ran away faster than I ever could have because I was wearing my flippers. Also I don't know how to run. I never got around to that certification in my childhood. Thanks for nothin MOM.)

How I odd, I thought.

"How odd." I mumbled.

"How odd." Thomas Jefferson said. I turned to him, he was right behind my body. I needed to cause a distraction. I whipped my quills over my shoulder, intending to woo Jefferson with my girlish charm, but I only whipped them across his face and he screamed as blood poured down into his mouth and stained his white shirt.

"My white shirt!" He screamed. James Madison ran over and began frantically pouring water on our future president.

"James it's going to sTAIN" Thomas screamed.

"Perfect, just the distraction I was hopping for." I whispered loudly to myself. Using my wrist sundial as a compass, I found the approximate direction in which Hamilton ran. I ran down the hallway pausing momentarily to appreciate the Spanish baroque style paintings of the apocalypse. (UGH that's my ASTHE T I C) Going as fast as I could go, a moderate to brisk walking pace, I passed a room that had the door cracked slightly open. No one was around and the room was black as the color black. The bad instincts of a teenage girl in a horror movie kicked in and I pushed the door open and quickly shut it behind me. I really was hoping to find a malignant pagan God who would rip my arm off then share beauty secrets with me.

"Justice?' a voice from the floor asked. ' Is that you?" I inhaled breathily.

"IDK,' I began. ' Am I speaking with the demon Tuchulcha?" I began to feel flustered. The flippers were the wrong choice, I realized too late. My camo galoshes would have been a better choice.

"What?' The voice responded. ' No, it's Alexander." Alexander said.

I gave a disappointed sigh before walking to the curtains and pulling them aside.

"I was looking for you." I said with an excitement level of 2.5/ 10. He wasn't convinced I was excited to see him. He was laying on the floor, underneath the ornate rug.

"Oh, were you cold? I'm sure I have some sort of spell that could help…" I began and opened the secret compartment in my hook hand that contained my emergency spell list. He looked warily at me.

"Are you a witch?" He asked me.

I scoffed.

"No, fuck you, Alexander. I resent that." I said. Idiot couldn't tell the difference between this realm's most powerful sorceress, (aka the person with the largest collection of pigeon figurines, aka third best pokemon trainer in Brazil in 1983 ) and a garden variety witch. He shook his head.

"Nevermind, I need your help." He explained. I threw a blanket over him. He violently fought the blanket, looking like an angry baby ghost before tossing it aside.

"NOT WHAT I MEANT." HE YELLED, and pulled aside the beautifully woven rococo era rug to reveal a shimmering blue fish tale.

We looked at each other.

"Dude, you're going to need some MAJOR surgery to take care of that." I said reaching for the hand powered chainsaw on the ground. He just glared at me.

"I just need to dry off." He said.

"Shit, cotton terry cloth won't be invented till 1848. And it will be in ENGLAND of all places." I rolled my eyes. Alexander looked like he wanted to cry. But he didn't. But if he did it would have been ok because men can cry. Also, I was running low on the tears of grown men and I had a vial at the ready, just in case. I used that shit in my DIY moisturizer.

"Lucky for you I have this terry cloth robe that I am willing to rub all over your shiny fish tail." I had stolen this robe from the ambassador of sweden in 1978. (Yes, I can time travel, deal with it.) I kneeled next to him and began patting his tail. He didn't look into my amber, gray, blue, orange eyes.

"I like your seashell bra." I said in an attempt to break the silence in the same way I would break an arm.

"I don't want to talk about it." He replied.

"And I respect that. Will you be naked when you're dry?"

He pushed me and I fell to the ground. What, I thought it was an important question. I had to protect his modesty. It was then, we both heard footsteps in the hallway and then he looked into my amber, gray, blue, orange eyes in fear.


	3. Chapter 3

(SO everyone, since every great writer who's not at all mediocre does this, I have taken it upon myself to participate in NANWRMO and promise to publish at least three new chapters during the month of November. Maybe more, maybe less. DON'T PRESSURE ME PUH-LEAZE. You just can't pressure this kind of work.)

The footsteps approached the door and I felt myself holding Alexander's breath for him. My hand was wrapped around his neck. Gently. I was praying to the rain gods for a tsunami to get us out of this awkward situation.

Thankfully, the footsteps continued and I was able to release his neck from my grasp. He gasped.

"Were you going to choke me to death?" He asked and I scoffed at him for like, the third time that day. Then I felt myself grow serious.

"We do what we must to protect what we hold dear." My voice sounded distant and hollow. I think I accidentally let my demon Zuul speak instead of me. Oppsise, common mistake, happens all the time ammiright?

Then there was silence between us. Zuul shifted uncomfortably inside me. Awww, Zuul was embarrassed for me. Cute. It was in that moment I remembered why I let myself be a vessel for him.

"So you were going to…"

"Yes I probably would have choked you if you had made any noise but I didn't so get over it, GAH." I interrupted. He was ignoring me as he rubbed the robe all along his thick, metallic blue fish tail. I stared at it in amazement.

"I bet you're wondering why I'm like… this." He spat out as if he was angry with himself for being the way he was. I shook my head. He needed to love himself for who he was, regardless of if he was bipedal or not.

"I was just thinking about how many pine needles tall I am." Again, he ignored me.

"I wasn't born this way, Justice."

"Is this your origin story?" I pondered aloud.

"This has only been a problem for the last few years.' He continued. ' The year was 1776. It was the battle of Long Island. I fell into the atlantic ocean, and was promptly knocked out by a horseshoe that someone threw at me in an attempt to save me."

"Horseshoes, in fact, do not float. It's a common misconception." I admitted and he nodded in agreement.

"Before I knew it, I was being pulled by the tide and I ended up in an ancient cave. There I was struck by the magical rays of the full moon which for some reason gave me a fishtail and not something useful like, another hand to write with." He began to stare if sadly into the distance.

"Oh, if you just wanted another hand you should have said so. I have a crab claw and a raccoon paw in my bag right now." I said, shattering his sad silence in the process.

"I want to not grow a fishtail when someone spills water on my lap." He fumed.

"Yeah, sorry about that." I responded. I wasn't really sorry. It is just appropriate to apologize when someone is mad at you. I think. Probably.

"Just think Alexander, you could the first ambassador to the ocean people. You could make such a difference." I said and used this little inspirational speech as a distraction so I could cut off a lock of his hair. I would clone him later. I was already feeling a good friendship brewing between us and I wasn't about to let his mortality ruin it for me.

"Justice, I want to make a difference. Here, on the land. I want to be where the people are….." I squished his cheeks.

"Nematodes are people too, Alexander."

He nodded, apparently deep in thought. I stood up.

"Are you going to give me my robe back or what?" He threw the robe at my face and I caught it with my teeth.

"Fank uff." I said, my teeth still clenched around the robe. It tasted like salt. He ignored me, and stood up on his now two feet. He, unfortunately, was not naked. What a shame. I really wanted to see the top half of that rockin dad bod. Maybe another time. He began dusting his tousers off.

"You know you can't tell anyone, right?" He told me, looking genuinely concerned. God knows why. I was a trustworthy person. I reached into my ear and crushed the earpiece I wore for the world government. What? They paid me in thirty pound bags of skittles. Only the yellow one.

"I would never, Alexander." I flicked the pieces of the earpiece into the carpet.

"I literally have no choice but to trust you. That's the only reason I'm trusting you."

"I'm beginning to think you don't like me Alexander."

Silence. This silence tasted salty. And gross. Not the good kind of silence.

"How much money do you think glass blowers make in a year?" I asked in an attempt to restart the conversation with a completely normal subject change. Alexander ignored me and made his way back into the hallway where he promptly bumped into Thomas Jefferson who was only wearing the 1700's equivalent of a wife beater.

"HEY Alexander. What kind of debauchery are you up to today?" He questioned before peering into the room I was in. I was in the process of changing my hook hand into a normal and prosthetic so I guess from his angle it looked like I was taking my hand off and not putting a new one on. What an idiot. He can't even infer from context he didn't have to begin with. Not good material for the sacrifice, that's for SURE.

Anyways, Thomas passed the fuck out and Alexander stepped over his body and continued walking down the hallway. I snapped my new hand into place and chased after Alexander.

"That was so fucking RUDE you didn't even check his pulse. Or read him his Miranda Rights." I called out but realized that he was already downstairs. I considered calling out to him using my telepathy, but that would freak him the fuck out and I didn't want him to fuck up in front of George Washington. (Now GW was a man worth of PERFORMING the sacrifice.) Making my way down the hall, I proceeded to tilt every painting just enough to make you unconsciously uncomfortable as you walked down the hallway. Low-key psychological discomfort is kind of my kink.

Demon Zuul was definitely distressed by the painting stunt. But whatever, I was the landlord here and I could kick Zuul the fuck out any time I wanted. But I was a merciful God. Landlord. Whatever. Also, Zuul played Halsey songs in my head when I didn't have internet connection, so he was a good friend. And I'm one loyal bitch.

When I returned to my seat under Alexander's table, I kept myself quiet for what seemed like an eternity. They were doing all this official shit but they hadn't used me- the magical consultant once. I felt more useless than a wide ruled composition notebook. Not exactly a good feeling.

To make matters WORSE, Alexander was irritated with me. I knew, because he kept spelling out "I'm irritated with you" in morse code with his shoes. Whether he realized he was doing this or not is still up for debate. As I played with the now shredded remnants of my plastic purple chair, a thought crossed my mind and I pulled on Alexander's pant leg.

"What is it?" He used an irritated voice full or irritation and irritability.

"Can we go get something to eat after this?" I asked. He promptly kicked my hand away and returned his attention to the front of the room to some guy who was talking about states rights or something stupid like that.

"Dude." I said again, this time pulling on his big toe through his shoe. He kicked my hand away again. So under the table I sat, bored, hungry, and considering teleporting the fuck out of there. I could do that, but then there would be a small tornado in the place I decided to leave behind and Alexander would fuckin kill me if I messed with his paper work. Who know why he writes like he's running out of time. I mean, I can't even RUN, remember everyone? The floorboards creaked underneath my 500 pound 5'7" frame. Most of that weight was the weight of responsibility, I was only about 142. Power is a burden folks, and so are secrets.

Like the secret that was forced upon me by Alexander's slimy fishtail.

When I FINALLY made it down the stairs, Alexander was back at his desk, my deflated purple chair waiting underneath the luxurious oak. Maybe it was maple. I'm not a wood expert. Alexander didn't look at me as I made my way back to the desk. Which was strange af because everyone else in the room was looking at me. Maybe it was the blood dripping from my hook hand.

"Don't worry guys, it does that sometimes." I said. John Hancock passed out. I blushed. How embarrassing for him. Why was everyone doing stupid things here today? Taking my seat underneath the desk, I latched onto Alexander's left leg. He tried to shake me off but, again, I'm 500 pounds. He gave in and I sat there, humming 'Last Christmas' by Wham! to myself until the men decided to finally end the meeting. After everyone left the room, Alexander kicked me in the head with his other leg.

"DUDE" I yelled.

"I don't want to walk home in the dark. Let go of me." He said. I didn't let go. He sighed.

"I can just turn the sun back on. I have friends on the other side, you know." He kicked my head again.

"I don't even know what that means. Just let me go, Justice." With a degree of reluctance, I relinquished the beautifully carved calf muscle and he stood.

"Thank you." I peeked my head out from under the table, a piece of the inflatable chair strung across my right eye. (It had been stuck to my quills since the chair popped.) He looked really fucking tired.

"Yeah, I guess." I mouthed, not wanting to use my voice until the sun decided to rise. He smiled a little bit. Just enough to let me know he wasn't super pissed anymore that I spilled the water on him earlier. Alexander began to walk across the room, pushing in a chair as he went along.

"Wait!" I called out my voice shattering the air like a metal spoon might shatter a glass mirror. He stopped at the door, his hand on the doorknob. Shit, I didn't think he'd actually stop.

"Yes?" His voice was not like a metal spoon shattering a glass mirror. It was like soft gravel clanking to the bottom of a fishbowl.

"I won't sing Wham! songs anymore if that's what you want." I said hopefully. He turned the knob.

"Again, I have no idea what you're talking about. I just really hope you can keep my secret, Justice." I nodded. I really hoped I could keep it too. Sometimes Zuul tried to force secrets out of me in the form of bloody vomit. Good old, Zuul, always fooling around. Right before he walked out the door he stopped and turned to face me one last time.

"Oh, and Justice?' he paused for like, six seconds longer than I would deem socially acceptable. 'If you tell anyone, I will rip you apart via writing. I will drag you through mud so deep it will fill your lungs and blind you. Do you understand?"

My heart fluttered, being threatened always did have that effect on me.

"I do." I said hoping he would pick up on my marriage proposal idea. He gently closed the door behind him which was like, 6 times worse than if he had just slammed the door. It made me feel really icky inside, like I had done something wrong. And I never do anything wrong. Curling up in the remnants of my blow up chair I used my fingers to close my right eye, and fell into sleep keeping the left eye open. I'm always watching for assassins you see, and the damn cowards liked to take a woman out in her sleep. Little bitches. If you're going to kill me, and least let me do my dramatic reenactment of Hamlet's death. Lasers and all.


	4. Chapter 4

"It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune, must be in want of a wife" I said from under the table. It was the next morning and the convention was back in session. Still no mention of the mole people, JUST sayin.

"What was that?" Alexander asked poking his head underneath the writing desk. I bit my lip.

"Nothing. I was just reciting some hardcore metal lyrics from one of my favorite bands." I said this and realized that he wasn't even listening anymore. George Washington's voice rattled the entire room in the background. It made me feel sick, but slightly aroused at the same time.

"Yo, we should go swimming later." I told him as I took marshmallows out of a bag and began impaling them on my hook, pretending I was Vlad the Impaler sending young nobles to their painful deaths.

"Are you stupid?" He asked me.

"Sometimes.' I responded, using red ink to draw blood on my marshmallow victims. 'But life is so much more fun that way." He stared at me for a moment and shrugged.

"I haven't had a good swim in a while. We'll have to go after sundown." He said. I could hardly believe my ears, Alexander Hamilton, was agreeing to do something reckless and possibly life threatening. TOTALLY out of character for this completely levelheaded, in control gentleman.

"Sweet. I'll bring the booze." I said really hankering to just get super wasted and then go swimming. I wonder what a drunk Merman would be like.

"No, I don't want you to drown." He said. I laughed.

"Dude, I'm so buoyant that I've never even been completely submerged under water like, in my whole entire fucking life." I shook my head. It's like this man didn't even read the 394 page autobiography I sent him in the mail. If he had, he would know this. Good thing I decided to trash that pop quiz I had for him on day one.

"It's going to be really cold." He said. I impaled another marshmallow noble on my obsidian hook.

"ALEXANDER PUH-LEAZE.' I scream whispered. ' A little hypothermia never killed anyone." I said smiling knowing this to be true. A little hypothermia was ok, but a lot of hypothermia was not ok. Suddenly, a pair of legs appeared in front of me and I hissed at them as I clutched to Alex's legs.

"Hello, Mr. Franklin." Alexander said. The strange legs with extremely attractive knees shifted.

"Good afternoon, Alexander." They said. Alexander kept talking to the legs and I totally tuned out until I heard my name.

"Justice? I promise, you don't want anything to do with her." Alexander told the legs. And he was probably right, to be completely honest. I was narcissistic, afraid of commitment and a bit of a slob. But I was also full of an unhealthy amount of pep and vim so suck my dick Alexander I'm FANTASTIC. Before I knew what was going on, the legs bent over and a head and part of a torso was in my view.

"Hello, Justice. I'm Benjamin. But you may call me DJ Hot Franks." He smiled and I felt something inside of me stir. Probably Zuul. He became super restless around people who had the letter 'B' in their first name.

"Sup." I growled and loosened my grip on Alexander's legs ever so slightly.

"I'd love to go on a walk with you, if you would enjoy such an activity." He told me. Alexander kicked me and passed a sheet of paper under the table to me.

"NO DO NOT YOU DARE." It said in swirling red ink. I crumpled up the rude note, and stuffed it in Alexander's left shoe, a rather clever and mature response on my part to his immature note.

"I'd love to. I think. Where do you want to walk, DJ Hot Franks?" I asked extending my hand from under the table. Benjamin Franklin took it and helped me to my feet. The swirling black mist that always surrounded my feet made my entrance into the sunlight very dramatic, I think. Apparently, not everyone thought that because John Hancock started to recite the incantation for exorcism but I spun my head 180 degrees around to face him and smiled, revealing my 2 inch fangs.

"Don't you fucking dare, Hancock. I worked long and hard to trap Zuul in this vessel and I won't let him go that easily." I said, my voice having dropped three solid octaves. The wuss passed out before I could say anything else and I turned my attention back to Benjamin Franklin who was still smiling at me.

"Where were we?" I asked him, my voice still three octaves too low. This would take several minutes to go away. I felt Alexander's hand on my sticky marshmallow covered hook hand. I looked at him, and he looked pretty sad actually.

"Justice, I thought we had plans later." He said. He sounded genuinely hurt.

"Dude, those plans are way later, I'm allowed to have plans before those plans. I felt Ben slip his hand around my waist. He even went under my quills so he didn't get stabbed or anything. I blushed a deep forest green. Man, he really knew what he was doing. Too bad he would be resurrected for the future blood space war and I would kill him in glorious space battle. (As would become custom in future space war. Resurrecting dead historical figures, that is. Don't worry, Hamilboy is on the no no list. I know because my best friend Gomez is the head necromancer in The Galactic Alliance's army. Gomez is super fucking hot but he's taken. He was literally taken as a hostage in the war. I get letters from him sometimes written in usually say "HELP ME I'VE BEEN PULLED INTO THE VOID AND THERE IS NOTHING BUT VOID I SEE THE VOID I HEAR THE VOID I AM THE VOID." And sometimes he gives me his personal predictions of fashionable colors for the following spring. He's a true friend 3)

I felt Alexander's eyes on my back as I left, my arm in DJ Hot Franks. I had to slap my back just to make sure Alexander's eyes weren't actually there. That had definitely happened to me before.

We walked outside and the sun kind of burned my skin because I was a part time vampire. DJ Hot Franks pulled out a fuckin sick black lace parasol and offered it to me.

"I thought you might need this." He remarked, a smile on his cute wrinkly face. Kind of like an old bear. Not the gay kind of bear for a really hairy man. No homo. Some homo.

ALL the homo.

"Pardon me?" DJ said. Apparently I had said all of the previous sentence out loud. I blushed my deep forest green and was suddenly conscious of how sticky my hook hand was. I took the parasol and smiled.

"Nothing dear, that was only the wind." I replied laughing, being sure to show him all of my teeth for seduction reasons. He seemed to notice my effort and he shook his head, laughing to himself.

"You certainly are a strange one, my dear." He told me and we began to walk down the street to probably our inevitable doooooooooom.

"I'm not strange. You what are strange? Mermaids. Talk to me about those." He looked slightly surprised at my impromptu subject matter and was totally unaware of the fact that I was now sweating purell. That's right, I sweat purell. What a fucking blessing. I probably just fucked up by bringing up the only thing I should not be talking about but lots of people fuck up every day. What matters is that you see how you've fucked up and you put in the ol spin bank for later reflection. But really, I had totally ditched my only friend and it was almost like I was TRYING to expose his secret. I wasn't. Not consciously at least. That subconscious can be a real piece of work, you know?

"So, you between wives right now DJ?" I asked lazily.

"I don't really wish to discuss that."

Nice, he's totally a keeper. But I still felt like I had done a wrong thing by being so salty to Alexander when he was just trying to be a good friend.

Before I knew it, 6 hours had passed, the sun had set and I was in the exact spot where I was supposed to be meeting Alexander.

"And are you sure that's EVERYTHING you know about mermaids and the sun?" I asked. DJ Hot Franks nodded.

"I'm fairly certain." He said. I wanted to scoff. Everything I knew about those subjects I could talk about for maybe 15 minutes so he was a huge fucking nerd. I had to end this disaster of a hang out sesh real quick before I caught the nerd disease. (A disease which, btw killed my grandfather and I don't appreciate people joking about it. Geeze.)

In the really cold water of the Delaware river, I saw the unmistakeable glint of Alexander's seashell bra.

"Was that a seashell brassiere?" Franklin asked. Damn, his bra sensor was insanely on point. I shook my head vigorously.

"Nah, what even is that? Don't be stupid. Go home Benny I'm just gonna walk right on into this lake." I said and kicked off my 6 inch cameo heel into said lake.

"Why did you kick your shoe into the lake? Also, I want to watch you swim in this water that is almost frozen. I turned around.

"Dude, you need to go home. Settle down. Tinker with your tinkery things. I'm sorry, but I just didn't feel a connection here on our walk today. Also, you don't think that rocks can be sentient beings and I can't be with someone that closed minded. " I said rather sternly. My heart hurt to do this to such a nice wrinkly man but Alexander was in danger and he ranked above nice wrinkly men. Also, Alexander tried to warn me. But I just didn't listen. I never listened. Because I usually just read lips and purposefully tuned out the outside world. Shit is noisy in all centuries.

The moonlight shone down on him and the wind twisted through his white locks of hair. He pushed up his spectacles, a single tear in his eye and he nodded.

"I'll always love you, Justice." He said and turned around walking down the narrow road into a dense forest.

"Don't call me my name." I whispered and watched him walk, swaying his hips a little bit giving me one last good show.

And that was the last time I saw Benjamin Franklin.

Alexander swam almost to shore, pulling himself into the sandy shallow end.

"Hey, where's he going i thought you two were getting along ?" Alex asked. I turned to him feeling the bitter pain of tears frozen in the hollow of one's throat.

"It doesn't matter. He's not important to me. You are, Alexander." I said my voice raspy and probably full of immense sadness. In truth I had already planned our wedding. We were going to have a summer wedding and hot chocolate as the only beverage. I really just wanted to watch people suffer. He smiled at me.

"You still up for a late night swim, you maniac?" He tried to ask but I was already in the water.

"Race you to the other side of the river you fuck face!" I yelled underwater.

"What?" He screamed after me.

But I just smiled. I was certified in swimming real fast and I was going to win this race.

Then I realized I said I would bring the booze and I didn't making me THAT guy.


	5. Chapter 5

**I felt really down after breaking my NANOWRMO promise to you all. This next chapter is dedicated to user 'Memelord' who believed in me when no one else did. You singlehandedly kept this shit going. MAY ZUUL BLESS YOu, MemELoRD.**

 **Also, this chapter is pretty educational so if you don't want to learn anything, GTFO**

"That's why the Articles have to go! What do you think we're trying to do here?" A voice said, ringing throughout the large, open room. I perked up when they said articles because 'articles' sounds like 'nipples' and I'm all about that life. I poked Alexander's leg. His head appeared in my field of vision.

"What is it Justice? I really need to listen to this part so I can rip these people apart later." He said raising his head above the desk but I pulled him by the neckerchief thing, forcing his head back under the desk where I resided.

"Are they talking about the Articles of Confederation?" I asked breathily feeling myself grow hot at the very mention of the articles.

"Uh, yeah what else would we be….." But before he could finish I burst out from under the desk in all of my swirling black magicy glory.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA." I scream laughed feeling myself begin to rise off the ground inch by inch. I levitated right before I got into a heated debate. It really freaked my opponents out. I would definitely recommend this technique if you're on a high school debate team or something stupid like that.

"JOHN DICKINSON REALLY FUCKED UP, DIDN'T HE? WE'RE ALL LOOKING AT YOU, DICKINSON." I said tilting my head all the way backwards until it touched between my shoulderblades. I was feeling confident and cute. You can contort your body in anyway you want, for whatever reason you want. Looking like Kim Kardashian can be your reason for satanic contortions but if you just want to bring out your best features, you can do it for that reason too. You go, fellow contortionists.

John Dickison at this point had passed out like a BITCH.

"Justice! What are you doing?" Alexander frantically asked me in the form of an icy glare and tapping his quill anxiously all over his arm spelling out 'Justice! What are you doing?" I shook my head.

"I'm about to throw some shit DOWN Alexander. Who wants to challenge me?" A nameless, unimportant delegate that time will not care about stood up, shaking in his very poor quality leather boots.

"M-ma'am I would just like to p-point out that the Articles prohibit taxation on a federal level. Taxation without proper representation was one of our m-many grievances before the revolution." I laughed a garbled marble sounding laugh that made this man turn pale and sad looking. Then I turned to the room of men.

"While this is true, consider this; If the government can't collect taxes from the states it can't be a fucking government. That means no roads. No post offices. No sexy postmen. Do you shitheads really think that DELAWARE is going to pay the salary for a sexy postman? I think that the good people of Delaware deserve sexy postmen." I glared at the Delaware delegates table. They hung their heads in shame.

"So without the main government homies being able to tax, we turn into that spineless substitute teacher that is way too fucking nice and gets nothing done and goes home crying because the kids threw spitballs at him and stole his wallet halfway through 3rd period. So we can either be that loser or be the fucking legit substitute who has rules, gets shit done and has candy to give out at the end of class." I concluded taking a shot of the brandy that had suddenly materialized on the desk in front of me.

"Hey, that was mine!" A voice I ignored said.

The room was full with the buzzing of whispered men whispering things. The young man who stood up to challenge me before was just gone now and in his seat was a small potted plant with his resignation attached.

"I have a point to make." Yet another spineless forgotten delegate piped up. I turned to him.

"Speak, peon. I don't have all day to put you in your place." Then I covered my mouth.

"Sorry, that was Zuul. What's up, Bitch?" I asked clarifying that I was a respectful individual.

He cleared his throat and looked over a piece of paper in his hands. Fucking AMATUre. Didn't even have his notes written on goat intestines.

"The articles prevent any one state from having too much power in decision making. All 13 must agree before any laws can be amended and that's the way it should be." He nodded and sat back down.

"Dude, fuck you, seriously.' I said and pointed to him. He frowned deeply and sat back down in his seat. 'What happens with this rule is that nobody gets anything done.' I sat down on the floor, cross legged. 'How often can you get 13 states to completely agree on anything? In any voting situation, there's always that one shithead who wants to skew the results or has selfish motives. Among you all, it's probably Delaware. AND if the excessive powers and selfish nature of a king prompted you to create your own fucking country why should you let that 12/13 vote on Delaware's part ruin a good thing? I say, don't be an overly salty bag of hypocrite-chips and let the majority rule. Also, someone should tape the Delaware delegates together and throw them in the river."

"Should we vote on that Delaware thing?" Someone called out.

"Later, we're doing important things right now. But when we do vote, it will be based on a majority ruling." George Washington's voice boomed from behind me causing me to tip forward and hit my head on the floor.

"Thank you." I said and pushed myself up into a downward facing dog. The room went silent. I could only imagine what they were thinking as they sat silently. They were probably thinking about George Washington gloriously storming Count Dracula's castle, covered in blood and gently cradling Jonathan Harker in his muscular arms. But the Keanu Reeves version of Jonathan Harker. George Washington was covered in his blood. Because even he, the leader of the American Revolution was offended by his God awful British accent in that fucking movie.

" Does anyone else have any other qualms as to why Justice is not defending the Articles of Confederation ?" George Washington asked the room of Silent men. No one made a sound. In fact, the only noise to be heard was that of a thousand crickets suddenly nestled outside the windows.

"Where is that coming from?" Alexander asked, pushing his spectacles up his nose. I Shrugged.

"Who are you to tell crickets where they can and cannot go, Alexander?" I asked rather sternly. He looked at me with that same look he always had, the look that said 'I have no idea what you're saying like, ever Justice'. I smiled to myself and pushed myself out of upward-facing dog position.

"Is there anyone else who wishes to challenge me?" I said one last time. This time, Thomas Jefferson shot up and I looked at him, a look full of hate and glaring and glaring hate.

" I have some issues on the subject of states rights." Thomas said smirking as he did so. I looked at him. I looked at him for a long time saying nothing. Doing nothing. The space between us was filled with nothing and I hoped that he would become afraid and I wouldn't have to explain this one to him. He stared into my own eyes, unrelenting and I made a whale noise as I gave up on this stupid fucking staring contest.

"Ugg, fine, whatever. I'll tell you why you're wrong. But I'll have you know I really didn't want to do this today, Thomas." I Intently stared at him again and this time, my eyes were not full of nothing. The space between us was not full of nothing but was full of something.

"Back it up real quick Jefferson' I said. 'What is it about states rights that concerns you?" I asked giving him another chance to make a fool out of himself. He stood this time with less surety and the stupid smirk that usually was plastered on his face was gone. In its place was an uncertain grin.

"Well,' He began. 'I'm just concerned that by creating a strong central government that will take away the fundamental rights that each state is entitled to." He said and sat down. This response was met with applause from the Delaware corner of the room. I shot those ruffians a not so playful death glare and one of the delegates keeled over dead. "That'll teach Delaware. Can't mess with me." I thought not so playfully to myself.

I put my finger on my lips, then I slowly shoved my entire hand into my mouth. It was a sexy and thoughtful gesture that showed I was thinking deeply about this question. (Even though I already had my answer and was ready to tear Thomas limb from beautiful limb.)

"That's a good question, Thomas.' I said 'And I'm so glad that you asked. I'm just curious, Thomas. Are you ready for the answer?" He looked nervously at his women's shoes. I was about to destroy him mind, body and soul.

Sensing this, James Madison covered Jefferson's ears with a large pair of baby blue earmuffs. I scoffed at this gesture.

" _Do you really think THAT will keep out the sound of my voice?"_ I told James Madison via telepathy. He looked at me in horror and I smiled at him. I was really smiley person today.  
Before I could even open my mouth, Madison jumped up abruptly, knocking over Thomas Jefferson in the process. He didn't seem to mind though; his baby blue earmupsh really did block out a lot of things. Apparently his basic five senses were some of those things.

"I'd like to call for a five-minute recess, Mr. President." He said, his voice 3 octaves higher than I wanted it to be. I think that was just his normal voice. George Washington Shrugged.

"Alright everyone, we're going to take a quick 5-minute recess." He hit his gavel against an old, well worn copy of _Gone with the Wind,_ which was curious since the novel wouldn't be written until almost a century later.

Probably a century later. I don't know. Who actually knows the date of when _Gone With the Wind_ was published? That's ridiculous why would you expect me to know this do you think I Google the facts that are put in here? Did I just break the fourth wall? Wow. This is really going downhill and it's only chapter 5. Buckle your seat belts everyone because just going to get more and more downhill from here. And the person who said they hoped I would improve buckle your seatbelt extra tight.

Alexander made eye contact with me from across the room as if to say "How DARE James Madison do that."

I returned the eye contact saying:

" I know, right? I was totally about to shred Jefferson LOL."

5 minutes later, James Madison returned, with Jefferson sans earmuffs. (His face was really red, he had obviously been crying during the entire 5 minute break.)

"Ok." James said, his hands on Jefferson's shoulders like an overprotective father. 'Thomas is ready to hear what you have to say now, Justice." I looked over to them and shrugged.

"Nah, I'm bored now. Alexander, I'm going to get some cheese and pastries. You in or nah?" I stood up and straightened my tie.

"I'm so in." Alexander said and shoved all of his things into his bag. As we left the convention hall, the cries of Thomas Jefferson filled the air around us and Alexander and I high-fived as the doors closed behind us.


End file.
